Simply One Hell of a Mess
by MisstiqueRose
Summary: My oh my, haven't you gotten yourself into one hell of a mess... After agreeing to work for the Phantomhives your life takes one unexpected turn after another! In amongst the absolute madness the life of a Phantomhive servant holds can you finally find the one thing you've been searching for? 2nd Person Story (Haven't decided on any pairings/romance, I'll get there eventually!)


**Simply One Hell of a Mess**

**Why hello there :D I'm MisstiqueRose! You may remember me from such Beyblade fanfiction as Little Russian Doll, Therapeutic My Butt, as well as my collaboration story A Little Orange Dress with Oliterra. :D **

**Ciel: *rolls visible eye* I cannot say I do. **

**Rose: *chuckles weakly* Anyway! I've decided to branch out and publish into other anime/manga! This is my first Black Butler fic, and the star of it is…. Drum roll please!**

**Finny: *taps on a drum and it breaks into a million pieces* Oh…oopsie…**

**Rose: *giggles* It's okay Finny. The star of my story is YOU, my dear reader! Prepare to meet the Black Butler cast up close and personal! **

**Sebastian: *sighs* Oh great, another incompetent fool… **

**Rose: *glares* Be nice, Bassy or I'll set Grell on you! So, for the purposes of my story I won't mention the colour of your eyes/hair – sub those things in for yourself! I'm going to call you 'of average height' (about the same height as Mey-Rin/Finny and therefore taller than Ciel). As for your name you'll see [Name] whenever you are mentioned! Immerse yourself in the story! Now, let's get to work – 'Bastian, disclaimer please! *snaps fingers* **

**Sebastian: *sighs* I can't believe this… MisstiqueRose does not own Black Butler, thankfully. **

**Rose: *sighs* Oh the things that would happen if I did! *evil laugh* **

Sunlight filtered through the ratty robin blue curtains, tinting your once-white sheet a light blue. A cool morning breeze floated through the window, bringing with it the smell of freshly baked bread making your stomach growl. Then again, it wasn't as if you weren't used to the feeling of hunger. You rolled over away from the light, tugging your thin woolen blanket over you as best you could considering its meagre size. Despite the shabbiness of your bed or the coldness of your little room, you were in no mood to get up – you're definitely not a morning person. As you heard the rest of the residents of the convent wake up (at what you secretly referred to as the crack of dawn) you sighed irritated, causing some of your hair to fall in front of your eyes which you quickly swept away with a flick of the wrist. The sharp even clack of brisk footsteps on somewhat olden and occasionally squeaky floorboards echoed up the hallway, and you groaned in protest knowing full well what followed.

"Come along dear, you've got plenty of work to do today!" It was Sister Jean, who trotted in with her usual unnatural cheeriness and annoyingly resonant voice. Her bright smile seemed to light up her entire face; despite the wrinkles and hollows that came with hardship and ageing you could see she had once been very beautiful. One of the most disconcerting things about her was her luminous silver eyes that matched (hilariously enough) her greying hair –it felt like they could see right through to your soul and they were always filled with warmth. How she was always unfailingly cheery, you'd never know. Maybe it had something to do with being inundated with the Lord's spirit or words to that effect… With a resigned grunt you hauled your body out of bed and trudged over towards the smiling nun who held a bundle of clothes out to you to which you growled a kind of greeting, you weren't quite awake as of yet. "Here you are! I finally finished making these just for you. Aren't they beautiful? You know you're the last girl to receive your gift [Name], so I made them extra special. Give thanks to the Lord that I was able to finish them before winter rolled around, now you can look beautiful all winter long!"

Gratefully you accepted the bundle of clothes, slowly unfurling them to reveal a deep green woolen pinafore and a simple white blouse with flowing sleeves and neck ruffles. A kind of proud smile crossed her face as Sister Jean saw your fascination with the new outfit. Though London's ever-changing fashions had never been your forte there was something simplistically lovely about these clothes, so you thanked Sister Jean warmly as she left, giving you a quick wink and a smile before she scurried off to wake up the other children. Quickly getting into your new clothes that fit your body beautifully you were lacing up your favourite (and only) boots when Vicky burst through your door excitedly. Her brunette bun seemed to bob in time with her animated hopping from foot to foot and already strands of her hair were flying wild despite the fact she'd obviously done her hair up moments before she came in. Her hair was almost as wild as the look in her doe-like brown eyes and her tiny frame was wracked with energy she couldn't even contain, almost like a little puppy dog about to go for a walk. Vicky (or Victoria in full but everyone called her Vicky) was one of your closest friends here at the convent and you couldn't help but smile when she appeared.

"Oh [Name], you'll never believe what I overheard that Mrs Winchester, the bookseller's wife, say earlier this week! The nuns just confirmed that it's true!" Doing up the last knot on your bootlaces you turned to face her with a knowing smile. It was just like Vicky to get worked up over gossip, especially that of the nobles and upper class.  
"Alright Vicky, what is it this time? You know that Mrs Winchester's such a gossip!" On that last reprimanding note you glared at her, indicating to her she should stop being one too, but all she could do was giggle hysterically.  
"She heard from the haberdashery lady who heard from that Indian man who gives out curry bread down the end of Piccadilly who heard from Paula, you know the slightly confused girl who used to live here," You nodded to show her you were listening, you remembered Paula (and everyone else she mentioned) vaguely, "that Lady Elizabeth and the Earl Phantomhive have broken off their engagement! Apparently Lady Elizabeth got swept off her feet by some Italian noble and they've eloped!" Her ridiculously high squeal said this was news of great importance, so you tried to remember what it was Earl Phantomhive actually _did… _  
"Earl…Phantomhive? The Funtom toy company owner? You haven't mentioned him in a while…" News of the nobles never really fazed you; after all, their words had little impact upon your life so perhaps it was your usual blasé approach to something Vicky deemed so desperately important that set her into a state. She ran at you with all her might, grabbing onto your frame and grasping your shoulders with an iron grip forcing you down to her level (which for you was actually rather painful). The fierceness in her eyes stunned you; she'd never been so worked up before in her life!

"You haven't heard the rest of it yet! Oh [Name] this may truly be the most incredible day of our lives!" Now you were confused, what could some noble's engagement problems mean for you? "The Earl Phantom…hive is…is…" Her breathing suddenly became staggered and shallow as she tried to rasp out her news; worried you guided her over to your bed to sit down. Something the sisters had worked out very early on upon adopting Vicky was her asthma, it only flared up when she got overexcited or overexerted herself. Thankfully once she'd calmed down a little her breathing improved but she still seemed incredibly determined to tell you her news.

"Paula says in order to take his mind off Lady Elizabeth the Earl Phantomhive is going to be taking a tour of London! And he's decided to come by our convent, today!"

Well, that _was_ big news! Nobody important ever stopped by your convent; it was in the middle of the rough-and-tumble East End surrounded by gang territories. Nobody wanted to get involved with that! It didn't exactly look much like a convent either – three small townhouses, the ground floor of the middle one serving as the chapel, the remaining rooms serving as the dorms and all other necessities for a house. Laden with rusted pipes, lined with broken, boarded up windows (some you may or may not have caused…) and laced with sinister looking cracks in the cheery yellow paint Sister Jean had thought would help brighten up the place the whole thing seemed to sag as if on its last legs, held up only by the longstanding ivy that had been growing there for what felt like eternity and the faith of those who lived within. The only people who did stop by such a desecrated convent were shady looking members of different gangs, some asking for money, others forgiveness; give or take the occasional lost traveller asking for directions. Why, that week alone you'd had to get rid of seven different strangers who'd tried to rob the chapel! It definitely was a…interesting existence, to say the least.

But you'd always longed for something more, even though you were eternally grateful to the sisters for taking you in. You'd always craved freedom beyond the routine you'd somehow fallen into here. No more chores, prayers, school, everything and anything! All you really wanted was to get out of here, so you could finally be free, free like the ravens that flew over the convent. They could go anywhere, do anything they so desired – that was what you wanted. A melancholy sigh escaped your lips; you'd give anything to be free like a raven…

Speaking of the ravens, you heard a loud caw startling Vicky into your arms. Your eyes darted around the room cautiously before settling on the window ledge where a raven had, looking around the room with curiosity. Though you didn't mind the little creature Vicky was terrified of birds so you slowly stood up and edged over to it. You got a slight shock though when it met your eyes with brilliant ruby orbs, birds don't have red eyes usually…do they? In a rather meagre attempt to scare off the bird (you honestly just wanted to look at it some more, it was a beautiful bird) you flailed your arms around wildly yelling out "SHOO BIRD!" repeatedly. Needless to say, it was a London raven so it simply stared at you with amusement.

"Oh come on [Name], that's not how you get rid of the blasted bird! This is! GET LOST!" Freddie charged into the room, a shrieking banshee brandishing her broom like a sword. Her red hair flew out like fire behind her and her bright green eyes blazed with what you and Vicky had affectionately dubbed 'Scottish fury'. Apart from Vicky, Freddie (or Frederica in full but if you called her that to her face you'd probably die at her hands) was your other closest friend. She'd been adopted when she was about four, a screaming little monster lost in the unfamiliar streets of London as opposed to her home in a small Scottish village – how she'd gotten so far away from home she didn't even know. It wasn't until she'd met you and Vicky that she calmed down enough to explain where she was from (but not her name, the sisters simply gave her one much to her disgust) and soon the three of you were great friends, despite the obvious polar opposites Vicky and Freddie presented. Where Vicky was small, excitement filled and often well-mannered Freddie was a tall, blunt, rough, apathetic hell-fire of a Scot girl who only ever got passionate if it involved rage. Well, that wasn't strictly true; she did have a curious affiliation with characters in books whom she'd often fall passionately in love with until the next dramatic book came along. Of course, nobody else knew about that but you and you'd promised to keep her secret.

"Thanks so much Freddie! Gosh that bird was spooky! I swear he had red eyes!" Vicky cheerily thanked Freddie, jumping up into the Scot's arms for a hug. The bold laugh of the Scot filled the air with warmth, a summer breeze on an autumn day, as she whirled chirpy little Vicky around in the air. You smiled warmly at them, these were the times that made living here less of a chore. "Did you hear that the Earl Phantomhive is coming to visit our little convent today?! I'm so excited!" Freddie rolled her eyes cheekily over Vicky's shoulder, turning to meet your gaze.  
"You're excited because some fancy-pants lord is coming to strut around in a circle and pretend his heart's broken? Oh please, what a farce. You agree with me, don't you [Name]?" You were about to nod when the airy chime of the mealtime bell floated through the air. All three of you froze, remembering something very important before looking cautiously at one another with a sinking fear. "We were 'sposed to set the table, weren't we?"  
"Yup," you nodded in confirmation to Freddie's worrying question.  
"We're so in for it."  
"Oh yeah."

With shocking speed the three of you tore through the winding corridors, pushing past the other sleepy girls and the odd nun with a few hurried apologies, excuses and Freddie's almighty roars of "GET OUT OF THE WAY!", "COMING THROUGH!", "WOMEN ON A MISSION HERE!" When you came to the stairs leading down to the kitchen (and therefore the hall) you all implemented a plan perfected with practice; Freddie grabbed a nearby cloth and slid down the old winding balustrade like she was riding a horse, whereas Vicky leapt gracefully down the stairs in twos and threes being sure to avoid all the broken ones. Your method was by far the most dramatic, swinging a makeshift hook onto a rusted pipe that lined the wall down the stairs you gripped the hook and literally swang down the side of the wall the entire way down the stairs (quite possibly breaking bits of both the pipe and the wall in the process) before pushing off the wall, leaping elegantly and landing at the base of the stairs in between your two friends, neither of whom were remotely stunned by your display of awesomeness. Such streetwise feats were pretty common around here, even the nuns had more than a few tricks up their sleeves.  
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

You rushed off again straight through the door to the meal hall only just making it before Sister Margaret was about to hunt you down and make you write out Bible verses a hundred times on a blackboard. As head of the convent she was in charge of everything, strict but fair, her owl like blue eyes seemed to know almost everything. Though she didn't look pleased with your unladylike panting in the centre of the room, she let the three of you off the hook so long as you got to work immediately. Of course, you three weren't the only ones designated to set the two long oak panel tables that the hall contained this fine London morning. The other girl on duty, Charlotte, laughed gently as you sheepishly gathered up some cups and got to work. She'd done a surprisingly good job on her own, most of the plates were laid out and only a few more remained in her arms. It surprised you to see her up so early; of all the girls here Charlotte was usually the last one awake but her curly mane flowing wildly in all directions proved she hadn't been up very long. "Hey, [Name]! Those cups aren't going to set themselves!" Charlotte laughed sunnily noticing you had drifted off into a world of your own. The sound wasn't as bawdy as Freddie's roaring laugh, but had the same warmth laced in it and the same cheerful smile seemed to go right up to her luminous green eyes.

"I wish they could, it would mean one less thing for us to do around here. The least they could do is match." She laughed again at your reply; unfortunately understanding the truth of it. It was a little frustrating being so financially hard off: none of the crockery matched (or was completely whole) and some of the utensils were rusted and bent, cups were chipped and the tablecloth really needed a good wash, especially the way Freddie ate. You hoped one day you'd be able to see a beautifully set table lined with wonderful food – which you hadn't had to lift a finger for. Alas, the sisters believed manual labour was character building so for the meantime you were stuck doing it all for yourself. You lay down the last cup, looking around to find the other girls milling in for breakfast with the lazy chatter that comes with early mornings. As soon as everyone was seated (after they'd helped one poor girl off the floor, her chair had simply collapsed underneath her – another job for later), you included, Sister Margaret led you all in the usual morning prayer. Sure, you knew them all but you could never really find any feeling to put into them. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Charlotte on the other end of the room seemed to have the same difficulty as she met your gaze with a cheeky wink.

"Now girls," Sister Isabelle began in her somewhat dreary tone and almost immediately half the girls rolled their eyes as subtly as they could. Her voice was monotonous at best, having her for lessons was a nightmare – if you fell asleep she'd give you a lecture, and then more often than not you'd simply fall asleep again! "Today we have a very special guest, so it's important that you're on your best behaviour, as the Lord clearly states…" And she'd lost you, as well as everyone else in the room, even her fellow sisters were looking a little bored with her. Vicky and Freddie were having a hushed discussion behind you but you couldn't make out what they were saying, so your eyes lazily wandered the room for something else to entertain you. Charlotte, on the other end of the room, was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper but this wasn't irregular. A creature often lost in her own imagination, Charlotte was constantly writing down ideas and drawing pictures of the fantastical worlds she created – they said when she'd arrived all she had was a beautifully crafted ink pen with her name on it and a book of fairy-tales.

She held up her sheet of paper as discreetly as she could, and you realized she was trying to communicate with you. '_Do you know who this 'visitor' is?' _You nodded your head, and without drawing attention to yourself motioned to a Funtom sweet the girl in front of you had. Understanding your subtle signal she seemed excited, scribbling something else down. '_Earl Phantomhive?! I saw him once out in the streets of London, him and his creepy butler!' _She was about to write more when Sister Margaret finally took over from Sister Isabelle with a politely loud cough. "That's quite enough now, Sister. Girls, go get ready. We have to entertain our guest. Best behaviour please!" She clapped twice and everyone scrambled to get ready, and you were almost shoved into the table by the oncoming barrage of flustered girls.

Soon afterwards everyone was hard at work trying to clean up the place, and due to your all-around housework skills you were told to just help out anywhere you could. Everything from cooking (which you weren't bad at, at the very least everything you touched didn't suddenly burn the way it did for Freddie) to cleaning (hell on Earth you called it as you watched Vicky skip around with boundless energy) to washing and even a bit of repairing of some of the fabrics around the convent. As the day wore on, you gradually became more and more irritated with this no-show Earl. "Why couldn't he just come here and get on with it already? I don't need all the extra work…It's not like I even care much about him being here in the first place!" You grumbled to yourself whilst polishing a vase, furiously scrubbing back and forth as your aggression mounted, or at least you thought your rant was to yourself. Sister Jean gave you a knowing smile as she trotted past, holding out an empty basket. "Dear, would you mind gathering up the washing? I think the vase has had enough." You looked down realizing you'd almost scrubbed the painted pattern off the vase, so you sheepishly snatched the basket and rushed down the hall out towards the garden where the washing hung up.

Or at least, that WAS where you'd been heading until you crashed into someone in the hallway. You staggered backwards dropping the basket, a little shaken but fine; whoever you smashed into was a little less lucky however, hitting the ground with a resounding thump. Looking over you were startled to see a well-dressed little boy, probably about twelve, wearing an eye-patch sprawled on the floor and you realized it was him you'd run into; now you were a little worried. Spoilt children are not your strong point. A tall man dressed smartly in black suddenly appeared (appeared is the operative word) behind him, helping him up crooning with what you could have sworn was the most seductive voice you'd ever heard. "Young master, are you alright?" A shiver ran down your spine and you tried to stutter out an apology as the little boy nodded.  
"I-I-I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to run into you! It's just… I couldn't see you with my basket and I was distracted and…!" Your words tumbled over themselves, falling silent when the little boy peered up at you through doe-like lashes with an eye the clearest deep blue (the other covered by his eye-patch), the colour of the sky in the stained glass mural the chapel contained; one of the few treasures this hellhole of a convent contained. His skin was a perfect alabaster and his cheeks were dusted with the sweetest pink. He was small and slender like a little porcelain doll dressed up in all his clothes.

God, he was cute. Incredibly, ridiculously, beyond the prospect of belief cute.

After a moment of silent staring he turned away, a slight smile on his face. You vaguely registered Charlotte standing just in your vision motioning for you to come over, or run, or do something but you were too enchanted with the adorable little boy to care. He turned back to face you after convening with his butler if only for a moment, eyeing you up and down. "How good are you at housework?" His question caught you off guard, and despite its somewhat high pitch his voice was firm.  
"Uh…pretty good I guess…Why?" You'd recovered from the initial shock, making your voice stronger than before. Noticing movement you looked slightly over his head (which basically meant your own eye level). A piece of paper was waving in the air; Charlotte held up one more sign for you to read and you nearly gaped in horror. _THAT'S THE EARL PHANTOMHIVE! AND HIS CREEPY BUTLER!_  
"How would you feel about coming to work for me, miss…?"

Well, that was unexpected. Almost as unexpected as what you found yourself doing next.

"I'd love to, Lord Phantomhive." You paused in horror, the reality of what you'd just agreed to hit you in the face.

"Excellent. Sebastian, get her ready for work. We leave immediately." He turned on his heel, not before turning to Sister Margaret with a polite bow. "Thank you for your excellent hospitality. The Funtom company will gladly fund your convent. Good day to you." The butler, Sebastian, bowed as well, gently taking you by the arm and walking you out the door. Out the door, out of your old life into the unknown service of a little boy; you didn't even get to say goodbye, except to Charlotte who held up a sign whilst pulling a thumbs up out the door smiling a little. _Keep on your toes! So long and good luck! Perhaps we'll meet again someday!_  
"Welcome to the service of the Phantomhives, miss [Name]…" Sebastian crooned gently, and you noticed that he had the same red eyes as the raven this morning. _That's not creepy at all…_

You only got to look back briefly into the frightened eyes of Vicky and Freddie one last time, with something in your head whispering that you won't ever see them again, before being ushered into the carriage and off to your new life at the Phantomhive estate.

**Wow, off to work for the Phantomhives! But for how long? You'll just have to keep reading to find out! :D I would love to hear how you all liked my story! **

***a door mysteriously opens behind Rose, labelled 'Do Not Open'* **

**Ciel: *from inside the door* HELP ME! **

**Alois: *giggles* Hiya Ciel! **

**Ciel: *screams in horror* GET ME OUT OF HERE! **

**Rose: *slams door shut* Hehe..hehe.. *chuckles awkwardly* Well, please review! :D See ya!**


End file.
